Morose the man, whose dread and nightmare
In many acres flood unbound,
Discontented to be stifled by some foreign air,
In another’s ground.
Whose soul lost among the masses, whose destiny remade,
Whose life is ruled by computer and wires,
Whose winter is filled with bills unpaid,
In frozen mires.
Damned, he who cannot be concerned to find
Minutes, seconds, moments without labor’s bind
In sickness of the body, chaos of the mind,
By society’s mores defined.
Restless sleep by night; haunting recreations,
Apart as one; these toiling machinations;
And corruption, binding us to its breast,
With intimidation.
Love,
Sage
Sandy
Be always safe,
Karen
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
Ron
Powerfully penned - and very well done.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
This was very creative indeed!!!
Sandie Angel :o)
hugs
Fee
would approve and applaud. -gene.
Regis